


anything to make you smile

by neocxxlture



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M, ice cream shop, ive employed the 3S strategy - short sweet and stupid, summertime, this is just mindless fluff really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-21 08:23:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19998862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neocxxlture/pseuds/neocxxlture
Summary: When Yangyang applied for part-time at the local ice cream shop, he didn’t expect to fall for one of the customers.





	anything to make you smile

🍨

When Yangyang applied for part-time at the local ice cream shop, he didn’t expect to be waking up at 5 in the morning to go open the damn shop up. He didn’t expect the shop’s owner to go, at the first meeting slash interview: “Since it’s summer, we have altered the opening hours. You’ll have the morning shift, then Sicheng will come in, and you’re free to leave at two.“ That didn’t sound bad, and Yangyang was more than happy to have landed a job for the summer, because it was hard to find a place that would be hiring so late in the month.

Why anyone would open an ice cream shop at 7 in the morning was beyond him. At 9, he could understand – at 9 the summer weather would, reasonably, start to get too hot to handle, and maybe then people would like to detour on their ways to work for some refreshing ice cream or frozen yoghurt.

He ponders over this while he gets ready for the day, throwing on some shorts and a simple tee, and brushing his teeth while he fights to keep his eyes open. It is too early to be awake during the summer holidays. Yangyang lives about a twenty minutes‘ bus ride away from the ice cream shop, and he needs about 45 minutes each morning to get everything ready for the day. He’d gotten intense training the previous week, while his coworker, Sicheng, explained to him in detail what it was he needed to do every morning before the shop could open for the day.

This is his first proper shift at work, and he almost misses his bus. He has to run to the bus stop to catch it, and then fights to catch his breath when he sits down for the ride. Thankfully, not too many people are out and about just yet to see him sharply inhale air into his lungs or throw him nasty looks.

The shop is located at the bottom level of an apartment complex. Right across the street from it there is the river and the promenade. Yangyang cannot deny that its placement is of great strategic value – Sicheng mentioned that they get most of their customers in the evenings, when couples or groups of friends and families are walking along the riverbank.

The shop itself is small, just two rooms. The main one barely fits a counter, the machines behind it, and a couple of tables with matching chairs along the walls. The backroom is half the size of the main room and the last time Yangyang was there he and Sicheng couldn’t nearly squeeze in side by side. Right now, doors closed and interior unlit and dark, it looks even smaller. The shop’s neon sign above the door says, in cursive letters with the symbol of an ice cream next to it, _Vision gelato._

Yangyang sighs and opens the door.

He gets everything ready, and then double checks it to be sure that it’s all right. All the machines are up and running and ready to be used. The ice cream is ready to be served.

Except, Yangyang thinks, there is no one to serve it to. He flips the sign on the door to _open_ at 7 am sharp and returns to sit on his stool behind the counter because there is no way anyone’s coming to get ice cream so early in the morning.

He is proven wrong half an hour later. A whole thirty minutes of staring at his phone trying to blink sleep out of his eyes and push numbness out of his brain, the door to the shop opens, accompanied by a short jingle of a bell above it to announce the new customer.

He croaks out a greeting, as he was instructed to do, and the guy that just walked in does the same. He comes to stand in front of the counter and surveys the menus that they have on the walls – all the ice cream and frozen yoghurt flavors, all the drinks that they sell. His eyes flick across from name to name, and in the meantime Yangyang lets himself look over him.

The guy is dressed in loose, sports clothing – dark shorts and a dark t-shirt that seems to be just a size too big on him. The shorts reveal toned thighs and calves and the t-shirt reveals slim but toned arms. His faces shines with perspiration that collects at his temples and plasters bits of hair to his forehead, but Yangyang knows that it’s not that hot outside just yet, so the only obvious conclusion is that he must have been training.

Then Yangyang catches a glimpse of his shoes and understands that the guy must have been on a morning run. Why he’d come in to get ice cream, though, Yangyang doesn’t understand, but only until the moment the guy settles on his order and tells Yangyang, in a low and pleasant voice, “There’s no sugar in the lemon water, right? “

Yangyang blinks at him, “I can make it sugar-free, if you want.”

“Then I’ll have one of those, please,” he says with a tiny smile, and Yangyang turns around to make his lemon water feeling vindicated because, as he previously stated, no one goes to get ice cream at 7:30 in the morning.

There isn’t much he can mess up when it comes to preparing lemon water, so he’s got it ready in no time. Yangyang rings it up on the register, the guy pays, and takes his drink to one of the tables. He doesn’t sit down with it, however; he downs half the cup at once before he puts it on the table and starts stretching his legs and arms. Yangyang has got nothing better to do than watch him.

It takes only about a few minutes. Yangyang doesn’t know if he noticed his staring but chose to ignore it or if he genuinely didn’t notice it at all. At last the guy drinks the rest of his beverage, quite considerately throws away the plastic cup in the trashcan by the end of the counter, and with a nod of his head in Yangyang’s direction (a goodbye, Yangyang guesses) he leaves the shop.

Yangyang almost forgets to throw after him a cheery, “Thank you, bye! Come again!”

He doesn’t think he’s going to see him that soon, but a few days later, at the same time – seven thirty, exactly – he shows up at the shop again.

Yangyang doesn’t get that many customers. Sure, there have been some – even before 10 am, which he thought was interesting. He’d had mothers with their children, some businessmen, some other people – but not enough that he would forget this guy, who he’s come to call the Runner in his mind, or his order.

The Runner, however, seems to be taken aback when Yangyang asks him, throwing on his customer-friendly smile, “Lemon water again?”

“Yeah,” the guy answers, like he can’t quite believe Yangyang would recall his order, “Yes, thank you.”

This time, after he pays, the Runner leaves with his drink, a wave of his hand and a smile on his face. Yangyang watches the door close after him wishing he’d stay a bit longer and provide a distraction – sitting around on his ass waiting for customers to show up at stupid early hours of the morning is boring.

When he says so to Sicheng when Sicheng arrives to start his shift at noon, he is met with a disinterested stare, “You’ve got the best shift of them all,” he says, “I’d give anything to work the mornings.”

Yangyang almost replies with _but there isn’t anything to do_ but he bites his tongue the keep the words in just in time. He knows he shouldn’t complain, not when it’s clear that he’d gotten the better part of the deal. It really isn’t half bad, aside from the fact that he needs to get up so goddamn early – he is being paid for practically doing nothing.

With so much time on his hands, though, Yangyang needs to do anything he can to make sure he doesn’t fall asleep behind the counter. If that means he starts thinking about the runner boy, then so be it.

Out of all his customers, no one seemed quite as interesting. No one was quite as handsome, either, even with droplets of sweat running down the side of his face. Yangyang has caught himself thinking about him more than once since their last meeting – that second time he came in for his lemon water, a few days ago.

Yangyang goes into work each morning now wondering if he’s going to see him again that day. At seven thirty he gets to his feet and watches the door as if he could magically make runner guy appear in the doorway if he maybe stares or thinks about him hard enough. It doesn’t work, of course, until a whole week later, when it does.

Yangyang ignores the way his heart seems to jump in his chest when he sees runner guy approach the shop. Seven thirty on the clock, there is the jingle announcing his arrival, and a soft, reserved smile makes its way onto the guy’s lips when he spots Yangyang. Yangyang is unable to fight his own mirroring smile.

“Hi,” Yangyang greets him, already turning around to prepare his drink. Runner guy is content to stand in front of the counter and wait on him, so Yangyang supposes he was right in assuming he was just going to order the same thing as before. They’ve never talked, while he was preparing the beverage, but something pushes at Yangyang from the inside until the words are out of his mouth, “Why lemon water, by the way?” he says, “I’m sure ice cream would be more refreshing.”

He finds the boy’s gaze on him, eyes kind and bright, “I don’t eat sugar before eleven.”

“Oh,” Yangyang says, already thinking. The ice cream they sell is definitely not sugar-free, but Yangyang wonders – he knows the recipe front to back verbatim, because Sicheng drilled it into him in the first two days of training, and he’s sure he could make ice cream that would be just as tasty without any trace of sugar. “Lemon water it is, then.”

When he pays and Yangyang hands his cup over, the guy takes it but doesn’t move to leave right away. Instead his eyes flick down to where Yangyang’s nametag is attached to his shirt. “Thank you,” he says, “Yangyang. I’m Kun.” He introduces himself, so smooth Yangyang almost misses it.

“Kun,” he repeats his name, testing it on his lips, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Kun says with the hint of laughter. It seems like he wants to say more, but just then the door opens and lets in a woman with a child holding her by the hand, and whatever it was Kun was about to say gets lost in the bell ringing above the door and in the air between them. Kun steps away from the counter to let the woman and her child stand in front of the ice cream freezer so they can pick out flavors, and sends Yangyang one last smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Yangyang nods his head, feelings his cheeks flood with warmth. “Tomorrow.”

Yangyang cannot wait for tomorrow.

🍨

Yangyang is nervous when Kun walks through the door the next morning.

He spent three hours yesterday evening preparing sugar-free ice cream for Kun. He is satisfied with the result – thinks the ice cream tastes just as good as the ones in the shop, if not better – but now that he’s supposed to give it to Kun he starts to second guess himself.

Before he can overthink it too much, though, he forces himself to calm down. They greet each other, and Kun sparks up easy conversation while Yangyang prepares his lemon water. He jokes about how early it is, how Yangyang looks sleepy. Yangyang doesn’t bother to correct him, because he _is_ tired, but having Kun here talking to him is helping him keep awake exponentially.

He scoops up a small portion of his sugar-free ice cream and serves it in a tiny bowl. He pushes both the bowl and Kun’s water across the counter at the same time, and charges him only for the water. Kun looks at the ice cream and to Yangyang, confusion obvious in his eyes. Yangyang quickly explains, sliding his eyes from Kun’s face to the register, “It’s on the house.”

“But,” Kun starts, and Yangyang jumps in with a hurried, “There’s no sugar!”

That seems to surprise Kun. “Oh. Alright.”

Yangyang gestures to where they keep small plastic spoons on the counter, “Go ahead, try it! You can tell me if you like the flavor. I like chocolate, I mean, I don’t think you can ever go wrong with chocolate ice cream, but if you like other flavors—I could make those as well. Just,” he finishes his ramble with a shrug of his shoulders, “Tell me.”

Kun looks at the bowl of ice cream that sits so tantalizingly and invitingly on the countertop, like he’s considering something. In the end he smiles, though, and Yangyang relaxes and softly exhales a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Kun takes one of the spoons between his fingers and the bowl in his other hand, and cautiously scoops up some of the ice cream on the spoon before bringing it to his mouth.

Yangyang can’t help the smile that spreads across his face when Kun tells him, “This tastes amazing. And there’s really no sugar?”

Yangyang shakes his head no, satisfied, “None.”

Kun eats more of the ice cream, “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.”

Yangyang only shrugs his shoulders again. “It’s no problem. I wanted to.” He leans against the counter, “So. Any other flavors that you like?”

Kun is fond of any sort of fruity ice cream, he tells Yangyang. When he leaves, Yangyang is already thinking of making strawberry and blueberry ice creams that evening and looking forward to having Kun try them the next day.

🍨

They develop a sort of routine: Kun comes in each morning now and tastes whatever ice cream Yangyang puts in front of him.

He starts to spend more time at the shop, too, but Yangyang can’t tell if it’s because it takes him so long to finish the one small portion of if it’s because they start talking. Not that he minds – not at all.

He likes talking to Kun. Kun is smart and funny and easy to talk to. Over the course of a few mornings Yangyang learns much about him – that he is a music major, that he’s a bit older than Yangyang, that he lives alone.

He also asks Kun about the running – wonders if he’s training for a marathon, or something. Kun shakes his head and simply answers, “I just like running. I like to have a routine.” That is how he gets to know that Kun goes on a run every single morning, and each time he runs no less than 8 kilometers.

Apparently, the ice cream shop is positioned in the perfect spot at 4 kilometers, so it comes in real convenient when Kun needs to slow down and take a break at half point.

He seems curious about Yangyang too. He asks him about school (Yangyang is going into his second year in college), about the part-time job (Yangyang is trying to save up money for his driver’s license) and about him in general. Like which ice cream he himself likes the most.

“To be frank, I’m starting to get real fed up with ice cream,” Yangyang says, and it makes Kun laugh. (He likes it, when he can make Kun laugh like this, so open and loud.)

“Is it really that bad?”

Yangyang takes a second to think about that, and he finds that he doesn’t really mean it. A few weeks ago, maybe he would have. The getting up in the morning still sometimes gets to him, especially when he’s stupid enough to let himself get carried away with gaming too late into the previous night. But no, he must admit. It’s not bad at all – not when he can look forward to seeing Kun’s face each morning, not when he gets to talk to him for almost half an hour.

That all makes it much more bearable. He says, honest, tone a bit more subdued, “Not anymore.”

The temperature in the shop is kept at a steady cool, bearable level, but the way Kun looks at him just then, with such bright eyes and happy expression on his face, Yangyang thinks he burns all over.

🍨

Yangyang falls sick. He thinks it’s unfair – how does one fall sick, in the summer?

But here he is, buried under a blanket, sweating all his bodily fluids out of his pores, head burning with a fever.

He only regains enough consciousness to call his boss and explain to him what’s going on. The boss doesn’t sound very happy about it but doesn’t complain too long either. Yangyang has got only a minute after the call disconnects and before he falls back asleep to ponder who is going to replace him for morning shift and what will Kun think when he doesn’t find him there when he comes in for his drink and ice cream.

He feels stupid for not asking Kun for his number yet.

He spends the entire day in bed falling in and out of sleep. Sicheng texts him a frowny face at first and then a _get well soon._ Yangyang types back: _who’s on for my shift?_ And Sicheng’s reply comes not too long after: _i am._

The next morning Yangyang gets woken up by the sound of his phone alerting him to a new message. It’s from Sicheng and reads simply: _some guy was here looking for you_

That must have been Kun, Yangyang figures. _what did he say?_

 _just asked where you were then ordered one lemon water and left_  
_seemed disappointed to find me here instead of u_  
_is that your bf?_

Yangyang smiles to himself. _he’s not my boyfriend_

Not that Yangyang doesn’t wish he was.

_i told him you were sick, and that you’ll probably be back only next week  
how are you feeling?_

He still has a fever, but the pain in his forehead has receded. _better. i’ll be back next week_

🍨

The first thing he does when he sees Kun the following Monday is ask him for his number.

“I wanted to text you,” he says as he slides his phone to Kun, “But I realized I couldn’t.”

Kun types his number in and lets Yangyang do the same in his own phone.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Kun says, and Yangyang’s gut squirms at the words. “Your coworker didn’t seem to like me very much.”

“You do come in at an extremely early time,” Yangyang snickers, and then waves a dismissive hand, “That’s only Sicheng’s face. He’s really nice, when you get to know him.”

“Not as nice as you, though, I’m betting,” Kun says, and points to the bowl of his sugar-free ice cream that Yangyang served him today, pineapple flavored. “I don’t think he’d ever make ice cream for me.”

Yangyang raises one eyebrow at him, “Is that why you like me?” The words are out before he can really stop them, but he can’t take them back now. “Only for my free ice cream?”

He doesn’t really expect Kun to not miss a beat and say, “No, I like you for you,” and then adds, as an afterthought that just occurred to him, “The free ice cream _is_ a bonus though. Even if I have to run an extra kilometer to burn the calories.”

Yangyang’s head is white noise. He misses almost the entirety of what Kun says, too focused on the first part. “You like me?”

He notices just then the red dusting Kun’s cheeks, but despite that Kun meets his eyes and answers confidently, “Yes.”

Happiness fills Yangyang up so quickly he almost explodes with it. He manages to reply, “I like you too.”

“That’s good,” Kun says, “Because I was thinking of asking you out on a date.”

“A date?”

“Yes,” Kun shuffles on his feet, but still refuses to break eye contact, “You’ve made all this ice cream for me, so how about I make you lunch or dinner? I promise I’m a good cook.”

“I,” Yangyang says slowly, not quite believing this just happened, “would like that very much.”

“Great, then,” Kun says, “Is today good for you?”

“I get off at work at two,” Yangyang answers.

“Then I’ll meet you here.”

🍨

True to his word, at two o’clock, just as Yangyang’s shift officially ends, Kun makes his way to the shop.

He waves at him from the doorway and only asks him, “Ready to go?”

Sicheng looks from Yangyang to Kun and back again but doesn’t comment. Yangyang grabs his backpack and comes from behind the counter to where Kun is standing waiting for him, “Ready.”

He waves to Sicheng and follows Kun out of the door.

They walk to Kun’s apartment, 4 kilometers, Yangyang remembers. He would complain about having to walk that far when it’s so hot outside, except Kun takes Yangyang’s hand in his as they begin walking alongside the river and Yangyang cannot find in himself the words.

🍨

Yangyang doesn’t anymore hate waking up so early for his morning shift, because now he’s got something new to look forward to.

Kun still comes in, every day, at the same time. He orders the same thing, and Yangyang serves him some of his sugar-free ice cream. They talk while Kun slowly eats through his portion. Essentially, everything stays the same – except now Yangyang can lean over the counter and kiss Kun whenever he feels like it; when he’s pouting, when he’s being cute, or when he’s just being his amazing charming self.

When Yangyang applied for part-time at the local ice cream shop, he didn’t expect to fall for one of the customers, but he thinks he doesn’t really mind at all.

🍨

**Author's Note:**

> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/neocxxlture)   
>  [twitter](https://twitter.com/kunyongx)


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